


Falling Into You

by breathe_out



Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Cute, Falling In Love, Gay, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23942431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathe_out/pseuds/breathe_out
Summary: Instead of falling into Aerith's church, what if Cloud fell from Reactor 5 and straight into Leslie's home in Wall Market?
Relationships: Leslie Kyle/Cloud Strife
Comments: 7
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I ship these two so strongly, but I do. Also, how tf did Cloud fall so far and completely avoid injury? Well, he doesn't here.

Darkness. 

Then, a soft, almost timid voice that asked, “Where am I?” 

He realized that it was his own. It sounded weak and small. His thoughts felt like they were floating through oil – sluggish and confused. He tried to remember how he had ended up here, drifting through nothingness, but he couldn’t recall anything. His mind was blank. A shiver ran down his spine – he had this urgency that he was supposed to be somewhere, doing something. What couldn’t he remember?

Slowly, his dulled senses began to reawaken. The pain came first. It started in his bones and seemed to emanate outwards until his entire body ached. His head hurt the worst. He tried to shift against the smooth satin that caressed his abused skin. Although his muscles were stiff and sore, he managed to shift into a slightly less discomforting position. The pleasant sound of birds chirping in the distance piqued his curiosity. 

Cloud’s eyelids fluttered open, straining against a sudden onslaught of sunlight. He was lying on a four-poster bed with a canopy suspended above. Violet draperies cascaded from the top and rippled in a sweet summer breeze that drifted from an open window. The room itself was moderately decorated with cherrywood furniture and pale-yellow walls. His heart pounded with newfound urgency as he took in his surroundings. Nothing looked even slightly familiar.

His iconic broadsword was propped against the opposite wall. Besides for the usual wear that marred the blade, it seemed untampered with. He tried to lift himself from the mattress and groaned when the room began to spin. Cloud’s skull throbbed in protest with an agony that left him quaking with sickness. Nausea threatened to overwhelm him as his stomach churned unpleasantly. 

“I wouldn’t try to move, if I were you.” 

A toneless, calm voice emanated from his side. Cloud struggled against his rising sickness to turn toward whoever had spoken. A lean young man sat in a chair next to the head of the bed. His pale face was framed with silver hair and squashed beneath a cap. He wore a black and red jacket over a white shirt. The stranger leaned back with his arms crossed, his golden eyes quietly observing Cloud. 

Cloud licked his cracked lips. “Where-?” 

“My home, unfortunately. You fell through the roof and scared the hell out of me.” 

The man’s stone-cold gaze never left Cloud’s. Despite the situation, his expression gave away nothing. 

“My name is Leslie.” He said. 

“Cloud.” 

He struggled to push himself up onto his elbows and nearly fainted from the effort. Leslie reached out and gently pushed him back down onto the mattress. Finally, his features had morphed into something akin to disbelief. His gray eyebrows were scrunched together, and his lips were slightly downturned. 

“Stop trying to move. You hit your head pretty hard.” Leslie hovered over the bed, as if ensuring that his reluctant patient wouldn’t bolt. 

Cloud squeezed his eyelids shut, fighting the dizziness threatening to consume him. “I- can’t stay here.” He managed to say through clenched teeth. 

Leslie crossed his arms. “Are you insane? You have a concussion. You’ll collapse before you even make it to the street.” He said matter-of-factly. 

Cloud didn’t say anything in turn. An uncomfortable, hot sensation was gradually building in the back of his throat. His forehead beaded with sweat as he fought down the sudden urge to vomit. Cloud’s entire body felt far too feverish. He wanted to kick away the covers to escape the onslaught of heat. 

An abrupt cool touch graced his cheek. Cloud cracked his eyelids open. Leslie was standing at the edge of the bed with the back of his hand against Cloud’s warm skin. His knuckles brushed across his cheekbone with surprisingly tender care. Leslie’s icy hand felt heavenly and Cloud moaned appreciatively when the man moved it higher to stroke his sweaty hairline. 

Leslie sighed in resignation. “I’m going to fetch some medicine.” 

Cloud watched the man’s departure through hazy vision. He must have dozed, because seconds later Leslie was shaking him awake with a glass of water clutched in his hand. He blinked away the heavy drowsiness that muddled his consciousness. 

“Hey, try to get this down. It should help with the nausea.” 

With an astounding amount of patience, Leslie slowly managed to lean Cloud upward just enough to properly get the medication down his throat without possibly choking. He didn’t possess the strength to hold the drink, so Leslie brought it up to him. The cold glass pressed against his lips felt soothing, and the water even more so. He didn’t realize how parched he was until the water had drenched his dry tongue. He drank greedily, but it was all too soon pulled away from him. 

He eased back into the bed, exhausted and in pain. Leslie was still by his side when he finally drifted into a deep slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

Hours or days later, Cloud awoke again. This time, he felt more lucid than before. The room was dark and cool, so he suspected that night had fallen while he’d been asleep. He cautiously shifted in the bed, carefully cataloguing all of his aches and pains. Although he was no longer nauseous, his brain felt like it was pounding incessantly against his skull. Leslie had said that he hit his head pretty hard, but it’s a miracle that he didn’t sustain any more life-threatening injuries. Hell, he doubted that he should even be alive in the first place. 

Thoughts of that night rushed back to him all at once. He grimaced – the whole thing had been a trap. Once again, Avalanche was caught unaware and suffering the consequences under the scrutiny of the public eye. Had Barret managed to get Tifa out of harm’s way in time? His last glimpse of her desperate, terrified eyes still lingered in his head. But Barret would have seen that she had gotten to safety – Cloud was almost sure of it. The man was nothing but loyal to a fault and determined, even more so when Cloud had seemingly sacrificed himself to allow them to escape. 

He wondered if they knew he was alive. The mere thought made him shutter. He had to leave. Leslie had been more than kind to him, but he couldn’t bear to stay when Tifa may believe him to be lost. The image of her sitting alone at the bar, empty glass in hand with tears streaking down her face, made him feel panicky and helpless. 

Cloud steeled himself for what he was about to do. He leaned up and braced himself on his elbows. The room still spun in dizzying circles, but not nearly as badly as before. He waited for it to pass before pushing even further, until he was sitting up entirely on his own. Although his body swayed like a tree in the breeze, he did not give in. Ever so slowly, he inched his legs out from under the covers. It was a long and arduous process, with many pauses to wait out the sudden flashes of pain that would arch through his muscles. Finally, his bare feet lay flat against the cold floor. Cloud was already sweating from the sheer effort of pushing himself so hard. 

Standing was another matter entirely. His knees nearly buckled the after his first few attempts. He relied heavily on the nearby nightstand to support him, at least until the walls stopped tilting. Blinking back the lightheadedness threatening to topple him, Cloud scuffed his feet against the floor and shuffled forward. It took every ounce of concentration and willpower he possessed to stay upright. Eventually – somehow – he made it to the bedroom door. For a moment he simply leaned on the frame to catch his breath. He was already second guessing such a horrible ideal. 

But thoughts of his friends kept him going. He opened the door as quietly as he could. After all, he had no idea where Leslie was in the house. A short corridor branched out into an open room, complete with living accessories and a kitchen situated in the far corner. A large, man-sized hole was in the ceiling, revealing hazy neon lights and stars beyond. He could hear laughter from somewhere far, far away. His eyes eventually zeroed in on the front door across the room. It was so incredibly close – only a few measly yards away – but it might as well have been an immense canyon stretching from the tips of his toes. He was beyond exhausted. 

Cloud’s brows narrowed. He could make it – it was just a few easy strides to freedom. Then, he could focus on finding the others and think about the rest later. At last, he pushed himself off the wall and began making his way to the door. He was almost there – halfway, at least. 

Then, he brought his foot down onto something that sent a stab of pain through his entire leg. Tears sprang to his eyes and he yelped out loud before he could stop himself. Even worse, he found himself in a free fall. Cloud hit the ground hard and nearly fainted from the shock. Within seconds, he found himself sprawled face first on the floor with several unknown oblong objects pressing into his belly. 

Distantly, he realized that a lamp had been turned on. A bright artificial light was stinging his corneas. He squeezed his eyes shut with a slight groan, both in pain and humiliation. A string of curses was coming from somewhere above him. Someone slid an arm under his knees and behind his back to lift him from the wreckage. At some point, he blacked out.

When he came to again, for the dozenth time that day, he was laid out on a stiff couch with Leslie sitting on the glass coffee table nearby. 

For the first time since he’d met the young man, Leslie seemed more expressive. In fact, he looked absolutely livid. 

“Cloud,” He ground out, his tone terrifyingly even and calm, “What the fuck?” 

Cloud grimaced in turn. He felt like a child that had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. A range of emotions came over him: embarrassment, guilt, then seething anger. He turned his head away and tried to ignore the feeling of Leslie’s gaze boring holes through him. The teal couch cushions were suddenly much more interesting than the man beside him.

This, however, only agitated Leslie more. He huffed in exasperation. “If you don’t trust me, I would be more than happy to send you on your way outside. Although, I doubt you’d make it far as you are: half-dressed and defenseless, especially in Wall Street of all places.” He sighed loudly, “Did you even know that you forgot your sword?” 

Cloud cringed inwardly and felt his own anger dissipating as fast as it came. Leslie was right, of course. He was in absolutely no shape to fight. That terrible guilt swooped in and swiftly replaced his previous rage. Leslie, whoever the young man really was, had taken it upon himself to help Cloud – an equally complete stranger that had mysteriously fallen through his roof. He could have easily left him elsewhere, but Leslie had taken the responsibility of caring for Cloud upon himself. And what had Cloud done in return? He had tried to run away.

He pursed his lips in thought. Whether he liked it or not, Leslie deserved some form of explanation. “I –.” Cloud whispered; his voice was hoarse from lack of use. It would be easier to lie, although something told him that Leslie deserved more than that after all he’d done for him. “I’m just worried about my friends.” He admitted.

Leslie said nothing. An unbearable silence had opened up between them like a great chasm. Cloud wondered if the young man was debating on whether to throw him out or not. He was about to say something further when Leslie finally spoke. 

“How did you end up like this?” Leslie’s voice had grown softer, as if he was speaking more to himself than Cloud. 

Cloud turned to look at him. Leslie’s features had smoothed out into their usual calmness. His golden irises glinted in the fluorescent light of the lamp, giving them an almost ethereal appearance. Something buried deep inside Cloud seemed to reawaken at the sight. 

“Reactor five.” Cloud said. 

Leslie’s eyes met his own. He could not distinguish the inner machinations of the other man’s thoughts. But if Leslie had even glimpsed the news lately, he would know who Cloud really is – what he is. There was nothing further to be said on the matter. Leslie could gather his own conclusions from his response. Neither of them spoke for a while. 

Their gazes stayed locked on one another, as if they were both desperately trying to figure each other out. Cloud found himself eager to learn more about the man. He briefly wondered if Leslie felt the same. The man’s choppy silver hair partially covered his face. There was nothing to gain from his curious expression.

Regardless, Leslie eventually only shook his head in reply. A slight smile had graced his lips and immediately relieved the tension in the room. “You’re lucky that you didn’t sprain your ankle.” He nodded at the floor, where a pile of broken boards lay under the makeshift skylight that Cloud had made. “Your grand entrance left quite a mess.”

The imprint of those wooden boards must have been what he had fallen on. They had been invisible in the darkness. He was sure there were splinters in his foot. 

Suddenly, another troubling question came to mind. “How- how long has it been?” 

Leslie shrugged nonchalantly. “Three days. I’ve been meaning to pick up, but between you and work I’m booked.” 

Cloud managed to breathe a little easier. Three days wasn’t so long. After all, he had already recovered so much in such a short amount of time. If he was careful, he’d be able to walk on his own again within another week or two. Still, a part of his soul was torn between reuniting with his friends and staying with Leslie. Cloud swallowed his anxiety and forced himself to focus. Ultimately, he was no use to the others like this. 

The other man was watching him carefully. With another meaningful sigh, Leslie stood and wrapped his arm around Cloud’s waist to help him to his feet. His usual habit of keeping others at a distance eluded him, as Cloud did not feel the need to resist his touch. He leaned heavily on Leslie as they gradually made their way back toward the other room. With a start, Cloud realized that it was actually _Leslie’s_ bedroom – not another guest room. The other man was obviously sleeping on the couch. Therefore, he was actually sleeping and resting in _Leslie’s_ bed. 

He hoped that it was too dark in the hall for Leslie to see the heat that rose into his cheeks. A warm feeling blossomed in his chest. It was a foreign, giddy mixture of emotions he couldn’t quite place.


End file.
